King and Pawn
by Morbid Nonsense
Summary: Short drabble about Ciel thinking about Sebastian. One sided CielxSebastian, and a slight, very slight hint at SebastianxCiel. It's really slight. Very. Rated T for boy love (not even graphic, seriously; it's barely there), because I guess some people find that weird?


Ciel Phantomhive loved his butler. No, contrary to what some people may think, he did not want Sebastian in a way that was indecent. Such a thought was enough to make his face bloom with scarlet. No, that was not it.

"Sebastian, stay with me until I fall asleep. That's an order."

"Yes, my lord."

Really. "My lord." Such cold words, but of course, what else could be expected from a demon? It was foolish, but ever since Ciel was saved from that hell, a feeling for Sebastian arose, slowly but surely.

He bit his lip, relishing the taste of blood. He supposed he and Sebastian were similar in that respect, thirsting relentlessly for the blood of those who had done them wrong. Oh, how he wanted to feel his hands around the neck of the murderers of his parents. He longed to torture them in unspeakable ways so they could experience the pain that he felt.

However, he longed for something more. He longed for something more than just hatred and revenge. He wanted intimacy, love, and he wanted to love. Elizabeth was in all honesty, not the one for him. He simply looked at her as a child, a cousin. The one that Ciel desired was his butler.

Sebastian never would harbor feelings for his prey. The contract between them was the only thing that kept him from devouring his soul, and both of them knew it. His eyes moistened, and Ciel's fists tightened. He had not wept, nor shown any form of weak emotion for years, and he wanted to keep it that way.

"It doesn't matter anyway," he thought sullenly. "When I accomplish my goal, what then? When I have avenged my parents, what will I do? What use is it when that demon sucks my soul? Even if I believed in such a foolish thing as God and heaven, I would not be able to go there, where my mother undoubtedly is. My father was no saint… I suppose we'll rot in hell together. What an imbecile I am, to sacrifice my soul for a bunch of skeletons in the ground. At least I'll have the pleasure of hearing the slaughterers of my dear parents begging for mercy."

_Ha, and what good will that do you when you are six feet under, you cretin?_ _Well, you're too far to back out now. Sebastian would probably eat you regardless of the termination of the contract. Might as well put all my heart and soul into it, because I'm condemned anyway. Ha, heart and soul. How ironic._

"My lord? What are you thinking about? Do you require a glass of warm milk with honey?" Ciel stared at Sebastian, wondering if he had the ability to read minds, along with his myriad arsenal of inhuman skills. He shook the feeling away vigorously. What a ridiculous notion.

"Yes, at once." Sebastian stood up from his position on the bed, bowed, and walked in his usual straight-laced, mocking manner of his. Ciel had always hated and was simultaneously awed by how he saw through all of his façades and lies, and watched him as he walked away.

Yet he loved the devil. How cruel fate was, to have him enamored with his future murderer. He was the king now, and Sebastian the pawn, but in the end, the pawn would turn into a queen and destroy him utterly.

"Young Master, your milk with honey." Sebastian sauntered in with his arrogant, all knowing walk, and offered the glass. Ciel took a sip. Annoyingly perfect, just like Sebastian. He was perfect in every way, but what Ciel wanted the most from him, he could not give.

"You may go. I do not require your presence."

"Are you sure? You were quivering earlier." Sebastian grinned devilishly. As much as Ciel hated it, his smirk unfailingly made his heart race.

"I said I do not require your presence, did I not? I meant nothing more, nothing less. Leave me." Sebastian nodded, and left, a knowing smile on his countenance.

Ciel took another sip of the milk. It tasted a bit salty, and was about call Sebastian to complain, but with sad realization, he realized his tears were tainting it. He sighed hopelessly, rolled over in his covers, and clutched a pillow.

"I love you, Sebastian." The pillow did not answer.

Sebastian, standing outside the room, smiled bitterly. The current state his master was in would make his soul more delectable. If he manipulated this situation and caused him more pain, he could use Ciel's "love" to his advantage. Why then, did he feel so full of regret?


End file.
